


House of Pain

by anomalation



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 16:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19794775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anomalation/pseuds/anomalation
Summary: So I saw a post that said "Actual footage of me trying to figure out how Max went from threatening to beat Billy to death with a spiked bat to hoping he wasn’t a host, crying when he was in the Sauna, calling his name to help him break free from the possession, and later crying over his dead body in the span of a couple months: confused-math-lady-meme.gif"Here's my best guess. Title from Van Halen.





	House of Pain

Life changed after she put that bat between Billy’s legs, but no more than it had changed before. Her life had changed a lot, a lot, already.

Billy picked her up from the Snow Ball. That’s how things started. He was not late, which meant his dad had told him not to be.

Max never cared when he was late. In California, she’d just wait outside the school, practicing on her skateboard. He’d show up, feel bad about leaving her for so long, and he’d take her to get a milkshake or something. She’d ruined it on accident, when a teacher noticed how long she was outside and told her parents. Billy got a broken foot, and he stopped taking her anywhere unless he had to. Max always thought about that when she was tempted to complain, and she never ended up complaining in the end.

His car was hot as a sauna. Max waved goodbye to Lucas one more time and hopped inside, reluctantly shutting the door and trapping herself in with the heat. “You cold?” she asked him, and looked over when he didn’t respond. “Billy?”

“You dance with that boy tonight?” he asked, smoking and looking out his window.

Max narrowed her eyes. “I told you,” she began.

“I know what you fucking told me, brat,” he said in a low growl. “I asked a question.”

“Yeah,” Max said. “I did.”

Billy was quiet for a while. He rolled his window down for a second and flicked the butt of his cigarette out, and then he looked at her. All she could see was a glint in his eye from the dashboard lights. “He touches you once and you don’t like it, I want you to put that bat through his skull, understand?”

Max didn’t expect that. “I can protect myself,” she said.

“Didn’t say you couldn’t, did I,” he said, infuriatingly smug. “Seatbelt.”

Max yanked at her seatbelt sullenly, and buckled it as Billy started moving. “Why is it so hot in here, anyways,” she said.

“I’m cold,” Billy said.

She didn’t find out what that meant until they got home. And then she saw Billy’s window was open. It must’ve been some kind of punishment. And as much as Max was committed to being mad at him, it was hard to stay firm. Neil was always a lot more mad.

Mom didn’t even seem to care. “How was the dance?” she asked.

“Fine,” Max sighed, and went to her room. But first she got a few things. She grabbed a sweatshirt of Billy’s from the laundry, thick socks, and a couple blankets. Then she put it all on, curled up in her bed with comics, and waited to warm up.

Lucas radioed after forty-five minutes. “Come in Mad Max, repeat, come in Mad Max, do you read me?”

Max picked up her walkie. “I read you,” she said. “Can we talk normal now?”

“Sure thing. Good night?”

“Yeah. Fun.”

There was a brief pause, and then Lucas spoke with a smile in his voice. “Cool. Good night.”

“Night,” she sighed. “Over and out.”

“Over and out.”

Once Neil was in bed, she made her move. With two blankets around her shoulders, she silently crossed the hall to her step-brother’s room. She knocked.

“Go away,” Billy said, barely audible.

She opened the door, and the cold air hit her like a wall. “How long does it have to be open?” she asked.

Billy was in bed, sitting against the wall under blankets. “Morning,” he said grudgingly. “Go to bed.”

“Okay.” Max came closer and took one blanket off from around her shoulders and put it over Billy’s head.

“You’re not going to bed,” he said.

“Duh,” Max said, and unwrapped another blanket. “Put this under the other ones.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he said, and did as she told him. That was the trick with Billy, she found. You had to sort of ignore him, sometimes. Nicely.

She hopped on one foot and then the other to take off the socks and give those to him, and then his sweatshirt. Then she stood there, in her pajamas, arms crossed. She was shivering. For a second, she could see Billy moving over in bed, her sitting next to him. Maybe he’d put his arm over her. Maybe they’d fall asleep. But he didn’t do any of that. “Go to bed,” he said quietly. So Max went back to bed, and got under her own covers and then sort of just lay there for a bit. It was hard to sleep even on good nights now.

For Christmas, Lucas got her the last Wonder Woman comic she needed for her collection. Then he asked her out. Specifically, he asked if she’d be the Athena to his Hercules, which she found a little weird as a comparison but super sweet. She said yes, obviously. And then she spent as much time as she could at his house or with the other boys. Her family was being weird, and Christmas break meant she had too much time to kill.

But it wasn't Lucas that Max asked to take her to the record store. She asked Will. First of all, his older brother could drive. And second, Lucas would ask questions Max didn't want to answer.

Will asked those questions too, but it was different. In the backseat of Jonathan's car, he said, "What are you looking for?"

"Something rock," she said, and added, "for Billy."

Jonathan looked at them in the rearview mirror, but didn't say anything. Will nodded. "Cool," he said. Lucas would've said a lot more. So that's why she asked him.

They walked in together, Will holding the door for her. "Back here," Jonathan said, thankfully, because Max had no idea where to look. She followed him to an aisle, and stopped when he stopped. He seemed to know what he was looking at. "What kind of rock does he like?" he asked.

Max had no idea. "Um. He likes that one song, by the Scorpions I think?"

Jonathan nodded, smiled a little bit. "Do you want help?" he asked, and Max was very glad he asked so she didn't have to. She nodded back, and Jonathan started flipping through records. Max copied him too, pretending she knew what she was looking for.

Will stuck to her side. "So he likes music," he said after a second.

"Yep," Max said.

"Is he, like," Will started, and then fell silent. "The guys told me about how you had to threaten him, the night everything was happening."

Max sort of wished nobody talked about that night ever. "Yeah," she said. "And he's left you guys alone, hasn't you?" Will nodded. "So. We're cool."

"Is he leaving _you_ alone?" Will asked hesitantly.

Max glared at him fiercely. He needed to shut up. "Yeah," she said. "It's not like that."

"Okay." Will looked very innocent.

"How about one of these?" Jonathan said, and held up a couple options.

Max examined the front and back covers of each, and finally chose one. "Van Halen," she said. "I think he's got other records from them." She looked back up at Jonathan. "Is five dollars enough?"

"Should be," Jonathan said. "Dan usually cuts me a deal. Give me the money, I'll get it for you."

Max handed over her dollar bills - a month of allowance from her mom. She'd have to borrow quarters from the boys at the arcade for a while, but that was fine. She wanted this more.

Will idly flipped a few records. "Is he, like," he started to say, and then paused. "I guess I don't even really know what Billy's like, except for angry," he finally said.

"He's not even really angry most of the time," Max huffed. "Just weird."

"He seems pretty angry."

"Well, he wants to so people leave him alone. But like." She looked at Jonathan across the aisles. "Isn't it kind of your job, to know when your brother's not telling the truth?" she asked quietly.

Will followed her gaze. "Yeah," he said. "Good point."

Max wrapped it herself, on the floor of her bedroom on Christmas Eve. It looked pretty good next to the other presents, she thought. She did an okay job wrapping it up.

She was almost nervous for him to see it. Their parents sat on the couch, Billy in the chair, and Max sat on the floor near Billy's chair. Neil got Max a necklace. Mom got her a secondhand bike, which Max was very excited about but Billy seemed annoyed by. He was usually grumpy on holidays, though, so Max mostly ignored him.

"Ey," he said, and knocked her shoulder with the back of his hand. She looked over, and he held up her present. "This from you?"

Max nodded, and watched him rip it open. Billy looked at the cover for a second, flipped it over and looked at the back. "Who helped you?" he asked.

"Jonathan," she admitted. "Do you like it?"

He didn't answer. Neil didn't notice, thankfully, because he'd make a big deal about that and Max didn't want her present ruined by his stepdad. Especially because Billy didn't seem to love it anyways. After a minute, he picked up the record and his other gifts and went to his room, which was at least better than him saying he hated it. But not a lot better.

Neil turned on the TV after presents, while Mom started Christmas dinner in the kitchen. Max went to her room, and radioed the guys. "Anybody around?" she said. "Code candy cane."

"I'm here," Lucas said. His voice crackled in her speaker. "Done with presents?"

"Yeah," she said. "Didja get anything cool?"

Lucas had a lot to say about the improved slingshot his parents had gotten him, so Max got to lie back on her bed and just listen to him. He had a better Christmas. So that was good, at least. And then Dustin chimed in with questions, and that took a lot longer.

Max got up to go to the bathroom once they all signed off. She thought she might get hot chocolate, if she asked her mom nicely, and she was already making whipped cream plans when Billy said her name.

His door was half closed. She pushed it open to look in. "What?" she said.

With a thud, something heavy and jingly hit her in the sternum. Sort of on instinct, she caught it, and discovered 'it' was a ziploc bag of quarters. Like, a lot. One of the really big bags, almost halfway full.

Stunned, she looked at Billy. He was smoking, sitting on his bed. The record was on the bed next to him. "Merry Christmas," he said flatly. "Now go away."

She counted them on the floor of her bedroom, piled them in fours and grouped them in tens and ended up with 483 quarters. It was hard to kind of process that many. He must've stolen them or something, she decided. Broke into a vending machine or something. But that didn't mean she'd give them back. She could beat her high score, probably, with this many tries.

Mom called Max out to help finish dinner, and Neil made Billy come out with them - though, Neil stayed in the living room watching some sports whatever, which Max glared at. "It's not fair," she said under her breath.

"Life's not fair," Mom said. "Cut the potatoes."

Max cut the potatoes. Billy was setting the table, and not complaining about it, for once. He wasn't saying anything, either. But he didn't usually, when Max's mom was around. Neil was very picky about how Billy talked to her. But he was being particularly quiet, which is how he sort of snuck up on Max. She felt him standing behind her and startled. "Relax," he said. "I need forks."

"You could just say that," she said crossly, but she did move so he could get the silverware.

"I did say it."

"You scared me first," she retorted.

"You'll live," he said, and went back to the table.

Max scowled at the cutting board, getting more upset the more potato pieces she tossed in the pot. She didn’t even like mashed potatoes anyways. This sucked. And she’d picked the wrong thing to give Billy and he was probably mad, and all of the stuff about the Upside Down was really sort of sinking in, now. She almost died like a dozen times, but Steve saved her, but Billy beat Steve’s face in. She should’ve stayed away from the guys, like Billy said, except she loved the guys and all these conflicting things were keeping her up at night, even last night, Christmas Eve. And after everything, Billy was acting nicer, like threatening him with Steve’s bat actually did anything when any idiot knew it didn’t. Max could scream, but the total helplessness kept her mouth closed.

“I need glasses,” Billy said, suddenly right behind her again, and Max burst into tears as silently as she could. “Max,” he said.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she lied, and locked herself in. She sat on the sink, knees up to her chest, and cried. Once she started, she couldn’t catch a deep breath, and she wished desperately she had snagged her walkie because she could really use her friends.

There was a rap on the door. Max sniffed twice, hard, and said in her most steady voice, “Go away.”

“Let me in Max,” Billy said in a low voice, close to the door.

“No,” she said. She opened the door anyways, though. Because she didn’t have any control, and it wasn’t worth trying to pretend she did.

As soon as she flipped the lock, he pushed the door open, and shut it behind himself, locked it. “If you’re threatening me, just get it over with already,” Max said, back on the sink. She wiped her eyes on her arm, and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I’m not,” Billy said with a frown. “Why are you crying?”

“Because I’m upset.”

Billy gave her an annoyed look, leaned back against the door with her arms crossed. “That’s not an answer,” he said.

“I know!” she said, crying again. “I know it’s not one and you’ll just make me tell you anyways so I don’t understand why you’re pretending like you’ll stay away from my friends. Or that you like my present.”

“I do.” A hand towel hit her in the head. The combined shock got her to stop crying for a second, and Billy continued. “I’ll play it for you next time they’re out.”

That helped. Max wiped her eyes, and took another deep breath.

“But I know my sister,” Billy said. “And you’re not crying over a Goddamn Christmas present, so what is it. Something about your friends? What, you think I’ll hurt them? I said I wouldn’t.”

Max looked at him. He didn’t look anything like her. They weren’t related. But he was the only person that could read her mind like that. “But you could,” she said. “And you can kick my ass whenever you want. Stop pretending you’re scared of me.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Billy said.

“Okay, then why-”

“Because,” he cut her off, but he didn’t seem to know because what. Max wiped her face again, and sniffed hard. Her nose stopped being stuffy. Her head hurt. “You made your point,” he finally said. “I… respect your… it.” His hand was clenched into a fist, knuckles white.

Respect was one of Neil’s most important words. Max knew her brother didn’t say it for nothing, she just didn’t understand why. So she asked. “Why?”

“Goes both ways,” he said in sort of a mumble. “And I’m not gonna kick your ass.”

“Don’t just say things,” she rolled her eyes, feeling a little more normal. “You might.”

“Where’d you get that fucking idea?”

“I don’t know, kinda seems like you hate me more and more every day,” she said without looking at him. She looked at his feet. He was wearing the socks she brought him the other night. “And you’re obviously way stronger than me.”

“I don’t,” he said. “Hate you.”

Max kind of wanted to laugh. “Great. Merry Christmas, I guess,” she said, and hopped down from the counter.

Billy let her go. She took a second in her bedroom, so her eyes wouldn’t be red. When she made it back out, Billy was finishing the potatoes. Max stalked up to him, arms crossed, and watched. “Can I help you?” Billy said after a second.

“Who even likes mashed potatoes?” Max said. “They’re so much work.”

“Max,” her mom warned her.

Max didn’t care what her mom had to say. She was watching Billy, who was breaking into a reluctant smile. “Watch it, Maxine,” he said. “That’s my dad’s favorite food.”

“Figures,” she said, and added under her breath, “Sucks.”

“Maxine,” Mom snapped. But Billy was still smiling, in a small twisted way, so Max was unrepentant.

She remembered something else about California then. The first months she and Mom were with the Hargroves. Billy was getting in fights at school, and that made his dad angry at home. It felt like a powder keg. And Max learned how to put it off sometimes. She’d need Billy’s help for something, maybe, or want to read together, and Neil would forget he was mad sometimes. But they got older, and one night Neil said something to Billy Max didn’t quite hear, and that was over too. Thinking back, though, Max thought she’d had the right idea. She’d just done it wrong.

At dinner she sat across from Billy, like she always did. They all complemented Mom’s cooking, and Billy sounded like he meant it for once. And during the silence after that, Billy looked up at Max. “Aren’t your friends having a party tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly, and then tried to guess what he meant. “Can you take me?”

“Yup.”

“Nice to see you stepping up,” Neil said to Billy. “Let’s hope it lasts.”

That was the exact wrong thing to say, but Billy glanced up at Max with a knowing look in his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said. And left it there.

He took her without complaining. He was kind of calm, smoking with his window cracked. Max fiddled with the bag of chips she was bringing, and avoided looking outside. Who knew what was out there.

“You don’t like Christmas, do you?” she finally asked.

“No,” he said. “I don’t.”

Steve didn’t either. Neither did the Byers, or Nancy. Max thought maybe they should just cancel Christmas one year, and have a big party. But that was just Christmas anyways, so she didn’t know what to say.

They pulled into the Wheelers’ driveway, and Max told him, "You could come in. I'm sure Nancy wouldn't-" 

"I'll be back at ten," Billy cut her off. 

"It could be fun," Max continued. She felt like she might cry, if she let herself. 

"Nine thirty," Billy said. So Max got out of the car.

He came around ten anyways. 

Their parents went out for New Year’s overnight. A long trip to Indianapolis, complete with hotel stay. Billy was in charge.

The door shut, the car drove away. And then Billy brought his record player out to the living room and plugged it in. He had a six pack, too. She had her walkie, in case the guys or Eleven called. She curled up on the couch to listen. Billy, three beers in before the fifth song played, laid down on the floor. Mike had invited Max over for a New Years Eve party. Max told him she had plans.

"You're not sleeping," he said eventually.

"I'm fine," she said.

"I hear you getting up."

She got up so she can call the guys on her walkie from the back porch, where their parents wouldn't hear her. And she always checked that Billy's window, the closest one, was closed. "I said I'm fine," she repeated.

"Something happened," he said. "You all went somewhere, with Harrington."

Max sighed, and turned to stretch out lengthwise on the couch. "Maybe we did," she said. "So what?"

"So who drove?" he asked flatly. “He was unconscious.”

He was totally serious, but Max couldn't stop herself from laughing. First, she just kind of giggled but then she seriously couldn't stop. Billy snorted a little bit, too, and Max finally said, "I did."

"You drove," he repeated. "Ever done it before?"

"Nope."

"Did you crash?"

"Nope." Not really, she corrected herself, but no sounded better. "We got there all in one piece."

Billy nodded, and propped himself up to start on his fourth beer. He popped the lid off on the edge of the coffee table. "Where?" he said, but Max ignored that. She looked at the ceiling, a little crack near the wall.

"You don't stay in bed all night either," Max finally said. "I know you leave, to talk to girls or whatever."

"We don't do much talking," Billy mumbled.

"Gross," Max glared in his direction. "Don't be gross."

The song faded, and another came on. Honestly, Max thought a lot of these sounded the same. "You say something about that to your mom?" Billy asked after a moment.

"About you? No. I'm not stupid," Max said, feeling a little sullen.

He let that stand for a while. “You’re not,” he finally said. “You’re smart. Like, actually.”

“Okay,” Max said after a second, drawing the word out long. “What’s your point?”

“You should go to college,” he said.

“I want to,” she said. “That’s like, the whole reason I’m getting good grades. Lucas and I are gonna try to head to Chicago. Northwestern, maybe.”

“You can dump his ass whenever you want to,” Billy said. “Go without him.”

Max pointed her toes. “Stop telling me to dump my boyfriend,” she said. “I know I can. I don’t want to.”

“Do you?” he said. “Do you fucking know? Your mom doesn’t.”

Inside her chest, Max felt her blood run cold, and the sort of nice feeling in the air burst like a zit. She crossed her arms, and willed the tears gathering in her eyes to go back in. “You don’t know anything about my mom,” she said softly. She almost hoped he wouldn’t hear.

“I know she hasn’t left,” Billy said.

“So she doesn’t want to.”

“She should.”

“You don’t know anything,” Max said stubbornly.

“Then tell me.”

Max didn’t want to. She got up to flee, and Billy got up too, unsteady on his feet. He followed her into the kitchen, and she sort of cornered herself by the fridge. She opened it to get herself a Coke, and when she closed it Billy was there. He was close to drunk. “Tell me,” he repeated.

“Or what,” she said rudely. He didn’t snap back, he just looked at her. Max sighed, and opened the Coke bottle. “Back up,” she said, and he did. “He isn’t the worst person she’s been with,” Max said, trying to shrug it off, and squeezed around Billy back to the living room.

Billy sat on the couch with her, put his feet in her lap. Max shoved them off, and glared at him to keep them off. “Worse how?” he asked, and reached for another beer.

“Why do you care?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What the hell do you think it means?” Max demanded. She curled up on the edge of the couch opposite him and hugged her legs to her chest. He was still just looking at her, without being mad. “Worse,” Max said. “In a lot of ways. Though I know that’s… I know he’s not… good.”

She was pretty sure he was listening, but all he did was change the subject. “You want pizza, we should order it now. It’ll be a long wait tonight.”

“Can we get green peppers on it?”

“No, because green peppers are fucking gross,” Billy said. “Try again.”

“Pepperoni.”

“Obviously.”

“Sausage?”

“Sure.”

They ate pizza watching TV, sitting next to each other on the couch. “I don’t hate you either,” Max said on a commercial break. 

“What?”

“I don’t hate you,” Max repeated. He gave her a look. “Hey, you said it first.” She looked determinedly at the television, even though she felt Billy looking at her for a long time after.

The ball dropped, and Billy was asleep by then. Six beers was a lot. Max poked him awake. “Bed,” she said. “Go.”

Billy allowed himself to be bullied upright, and stood there while Max turned out the lights around them. He followed her down the hall to their rooms, a heavy set of footsteps behind her and a faint smell of booze. Max had asked him why he cared, but she really wanted to know why she did, too. When he was barely nice to her and mostly gone.

She was asleep when her walkie crackled. “Come in shitheads. Anybody here?” Steve.

“I am,” she said, and let the button up.

“Mad Max. How’s your holiday?”

“Fine,” she said. “Except we’re both awake now. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, dingus.”

“Obviously,” Mike cut in. “Nobody’s fine. And I think we should probably cut the bullshit.”

There was a slight pause. “Well,” Steve said. “Hello to you too. Already I can tell this walkie talkie was a great investment.”

“Are you okay?” Mike asked.

“I’m,” Steve began, and hesitated. “I can’t believe I’m confiding in some kids about this, but. I’m just having… the windows are kind of ominous, tonight.”

“Totally,” Max said softly.

“Put your back to the wall,” Lucas said, talking over Mike, and then he added “Sorry.”

“Hi Lucas,” Mike said, sounding peeved. “I was gonna ask if your lights are on.”

“My lights,” Steve said, “have been on since fucking Halloween. Sorry for cussing.”

Max snorted at her walkie. “Whatever,” Mike said. “Are your parents home?”

“What, so I can push them in front of me if a demodog makes its way inside?” Steve said dryly.

“Kinda,” Mike said, to the general shock and disgust of the rest of the listeners.

“That’s awful,” Max said, at the same time as Lucas trying to say something. “Sorry, what?”

“This is why we need rules for how to-” Mike began in a sigh, and was immediately shouted down by Lucas and Steve. Max listened, smiling. Once they finished, Mike said quickly, “I’m just saying!”

“This cannot be making Steve feel any better,” Lucas said.

“Weirdly,” Steve said. “It kind of does. Just knowing all you kids are okay, y’know.”

“We’re fine,” Max said. “Happy New Year.”

The other kids echoed what she said, and sleepily signed off. Then it was just Steve and her, for a second. “See you at the party,” Max said.

“Sure thing.” Steve sounded tired. That was probably progress. “Stay safe,” he added.

“I will.” It was sort of a lie, but Max thought she was within her rights.

Susan was training at her new job, working at the supermarket. Max was home with Neil and Billy, and it was tense like it hadn't been for a while. Billy wouldn't leave his room, and Max thought that was probably smart since Neil was sitting in the living room like maybe he was keeping watch. For like an hour, Max read a book and tried to put everything out of her mind. But she couldn't keep that up. It was late in the afternoon, and the TV was still on, and Max was never very good at just letting things be.

First, she crossed the hall into Billy's room as silently as she could. He looked up at her opening the door, but stayed on his bed. He was doing homework for once; that's how she knew he was bored. "I'm hungry," she said.

"Tough shit," he answered, with a bit of a smirk.

"Are you?"

He just shrugged.

"Let's make something," Max said. "Mom got hot dogs."

Billy narrowed his eyes at her. "What's this about?" he said, seriously.

"You're not in jail. You can go to the kitchen and help me make hot dogs. I need help because I can't use the stove," Max added, crossing her arms.

"You can't use the stove," Billy repeated. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes. "Jesus."

"Help me!" Max insisted.

"Shut up." Billy got up, and after a second of hesitation he came and led her to the kitchen. Max watched Neil's eyes follow Billy as they moved. He didn't say anything. Her plan had worked. She opened the fridge, basking in her success, and got out the package of hot dogs. Billy grabbed a big pot, but it wouldn't fit in the sink. Too many dirty dishes. "You wash," Billy said, and grabbed a towel.

Max couldn't remember if they'd ever done something together like this, unforced. It was the most excited she’d ever been to do the dishes. Which is maybe why she dropped Neil’s favorite mug.

It happened in slow motion. Max still wasn’t fast enough to stop it. The mug broke on the floor, a big curved segment breaking off the rim, and Max felt tears in her eyes immediately. She looked at Billy. But before either of them said anything, Neil was in the kitchen with them.

“Max did it,” Billy said. It sounded like a reflex. And it was true, but Max wished he hadn’t said that. Neil looked at her, and she knew she didn’t know what it meant, but she was scared anyways.

“Did she,” Neil said.

“Yeah,” Max said. “I did. And I’m really sorry, it was an accident.”

Maybe it was because she was new at this, but Max didn’t see it coming. He slapped her. Immediately, her cheek burned, and her tears spilled over. And Neil turned back to Billy. “Are you happy?” he said. “Letting her take the blame, was that a good move?”

“No, sir.” Max couldn’t look at him. She didn’t know how he sounded.

Once Neil left, Max walked - quickly, as normally as she could - to her bedroom and shut the door. She went for her walkie talkie, but she didn’t pick it up because she couldn’t tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t know that she could say it out loud. So she stood there, next to her bed, sort of hyperventilating.

Her door opened and Billy came in. “Max.”

“What?” She couldn’t even pretend not to be crying, but she tried to breathe quieter.

He put a hand on her shoulder. “That-”

Max turned and wrapped her arms around his chest. She didn’t have time to worry about him being mad, because Billy held her back, tightly, no hesitation. She cried into his T-shirt even though it smelled like cigarettes and old beer, and Billy didn’t move. He was there for her.

“That’s not happening again,” Billy said eventually. “I don’t care what you tell your friends, you’re staying with them when your mom’s not home. Understand?”

“Yes.” Max sniffled. “But what if you’re busy and you can’t take me?”

“I’ll take you,” he said.

And he did. For the rest of the school year, Billy and Max worked together. They didn’t need to talk about it. He wouldn’t leave without her any morning, weekends included. Max would tell him where she’d be that night, and Billy would show up around ten to take her back home. He refused to get familiar with any of her friends, with Nancy or Jonathan or Steve even though they were at the same places, but he never stopped showing up. He never let his father anywhere near her again, either, and Max started to feel a little more normal. Her friends didn’t ask questions, they just let her stay as long as she wanted, and their families were all so much more normal than hers. Hawkins was feeling like home.

Later, she told El about the mug, and Billy. She had trouble putting into words exactly what she meant, when it came to Billy. They didn’t trust each other, except when it came to the big stuff. And they didn’t even like each other most of the time, except when the other one wasn’t looking.

But El just got it. “My papa,” she said, “was also the doctor who worked on me.”

Max hugged her. El was getting better at hugs. Exposure therapy, Will called it. “He’ll probably get mad at me again,” Max said, half to herself. “It’s fine. It’s just nice while it lasts.”


End file.
